


Beginnings

by limesicle



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limesicle/pseuds/limesicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru isn’t his first kiss. Or the first person he’s dated. But it’s the first time like this.</p><p>Future fic. They're stumbling through the first steps of a new relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings

They sit in Haru’s apartment. Today marks the beginning of the second week of their relationship. Haru sits on the other side of the kotatsu table, legs crossed and staring at the smooth wooden surface. It’s quiet. They nearly always are. Haru is picturesque. Dark hair frames his pale-skinned face and large eyes–almost too large, but not,–and bright–but not too much. At the first glance, Haru is still. Sousuke watches for more than a glance.

 

He traces Haru’s face, the lines of his cheeks, his nose, his mouth. His lips part in words merely thought and not spoken. Sousuke’s glance flicks up to Haru’s eyes–pools he could lost in–does. His gaze dances away, searching for something less intense. Their empty plates from dinner still sit on the table, chopsticks laid down haphazardly. 

 

“You look at me a lot,” Haru says. Always simple and direct.

 

Sousuke raises his eyes. “Is that a problem?” 

 

There’s doubt hidden in his casual question. He treads lightly where Haru is concerned. It’s so different from the time they were in high school and the times before that when they met at swim meets. He didn’t mind provoking Haruka then–still doesn’t–but he doesn’t want to offend. In the years since then, he’s learned his hands aren’t built for holding things. He knows Haruka isn’t glass, but sometimes it feels like their relationship is.

 

Haru tilts his head, hair falling in his eyes. He pushes it back with slender fingers. Haru’s hands are talented. They move with elegance and precision through water. They have artistic precision when he holds a paintbrush. Sousuke knows the feel of them, soft skin with callouses where he holds his artist’s instruments. They’re smaller than his but no less strong.

 

“Why?”

 

The question gives Sousuke pause. He looks at Haru because he can. He’s long since memorized the angles of his features and the curve of his spine when he dives into water. He likes doing it. Simple. But hard to say. He settles for “you’re beautiful,” a standard compliment, he’s sure.

 

Blue eyes widen, and his lips part to form an ‘o.’ Haru’s reaction gives him reason to think otherwise. Sousuke watches his face settle back into it’s neutral. 

 

“Beautiful,” Haru echoes.

 

Sousuke rolls his eyes. Haru has a tendency to be dense sometimes, but not slow. “Yeah.” He feels his cheeks redden. The more they talk about it, the more awkward it becomes.  _ Learn to take a compliment, dammit. _

 

Haru cup his face in his hand, fingertips brushing over his cheek like he’s trying to see himself without a mirror. 

 

“I’ve never thought of myself that way.” There’s a hint of pink in his cheeks, too, pale skin making it more easily evident.

“For what it’s worth, I find you attractive, too,” Haru says a hint of a smile around his lips and in his eyes.

 

Maybe Sousuke needs to learn to take a compliment, too. He finds himself looking away, relying on awkward laughter to fill the silence. “Thanks.”

 

Haru stands. Maybe he feels the sort of tension in the air. They’re not quite comfortable just being with each other yet. It’s new–it’s good–but it’s different. Neither of them is that good at making small talk to fill silences, but they’re not close enough to be comfortable without some conversation. Haru takes the dishes, his own and Sousuke’s, and puts them in the sink. When he returns to the table, he sits on Sousuke’s side. That earns him a raised eyebrow and a questioning look. Haru settles, knees to his chest, next to Sousuke but not touching.

 

“Is it wrong to want to be close to you?” Haru answers with a question, tone light but question pricking at something a little more.

 

Sousuke raises a tentative hand and places it on Haru’s far shoulder. It feels warm. The heat spreads from his fingertips up his arm. He likes touching Haruka, but he doesn’t do it much. It always feels like Haru is about to slip away like water through his grasping fingers. He accidentally tightens his grip at the thought. Haru leans closer without questioning. Closer, closer, until his shoulder hits Sousuke’s side and he rests his head of silky black hair on Sousuke’s collarbone.

 

Sousuke feels his heart pounding, blood pumping so loudly he’s surprised Haruka can’t hear it. Or maybe he can. The feel of Haru’s weight on his side is new, but it feels right. The lines of their bodies push together, fit together. In so many ways, he feels like Haruka completes him, not that he says it. He’s still scared of messing this up. It’s new, so new. Haru is someone he’s met often, but hardly knows. He’s still feels distant even pressed up against Sousuke’s side.

 

They’ve hardly voiced their feelings, simple  _ I like yous _ spoken once or twice. They talk around each other most of the time, while somehow sometimes meeting in the middle. With work and life, they’ve gone on two dates. This is his first time in Haru’s house, and the first time they’ve been this close. He’s thought about kissing Haru–dreamed about it–but hasn’t done it. Is it too early?

 

Haru straightens up a little, enough that Sousuke can feel the weight lighten. Sousuke pushes himself back from the table, so he sits in the middle of open floor. Haru moves with him, shifting until he straddles Sousuke. They sit forehead-to-forehead, with hardly room to breath. Sousuke keeps his eyes shut, attention captured by all the points where he can feel Haru against him.

 

“I want to kiss you,” Haru says. “Can I?”

 

Sousuke pushes the knee-jerk, snappy “I don’t know, can you?” out of his mind. He doesn’t want to ruin the mood, but his mind is frazzled. Nervous. He’s nervous. Instead of saying something stupid, he tilts his chin forward and hopes he doesn’t miss. It’s not like he hasn’t kissed people before. But it’s different this time. There are butterflies in his stomach, and he’s worrying about dumb things. The moment Haru’s lips meet his, those worries dissolve.

 

Haru’s lips are soft from regularly-applied chapstick. They mold to his or his to them. Haru moves with more force than he expected, but Sousuke answers it in kind. Sousuke’s hands follow the line of Haru’s body down to his hips. They draw quick breaths and take advantage of having swimmer’s lungs. Kissing Haru is natural. There’s an ebb and flow to it, and somewhere during this first kiss–if he can call it just one–they go from vertical to horizontal.

 

His back presses into the hardwood floor. He can feel Haru’s weight on top of him, heavy, solid, there. Sousuke slips his hand under the hem of Haru’s shirt. Haru hums into the kiss, lips straying from Sousuke’s to press to the line of his jaw and trail down his neck. He stops when he reaches the ridge of his collarbone. Sousuke takes this opportunity to speak, before he loses himself entirely in Haru.

 

“How far do you want to go?” He asks, thumb tracing circles into the skin of Haru’s back.

 

Haru raises himself on his palms, so he can look at Sousuke. When he pulls back, the flush in his face is evident. His hair is just starting to stick to his forehead with sweat. Haru wipes the back of one hand over his mouth.

 

“I don’t know.” He smoothes a hand through his hair, looking away. Is he embarrassed?  _ Now? _

 

Sousuke pulls his hand away from Haru’s back and lets it drop to the floor. “I don’t want to do something you’ll regret,” he mutters, eyes turning away.

 

“I wouldn’t–with…” Haru starts, fumbling for words. “I’m–I won’t.”

 

He leans forward, touching his head to Sousuke’s shoulder. “I haven’t been interested in this before. This is basically as far as I’ve gotten…with anyone.”

 

“You’re a virgin?” He asks before he thinks about what he’s saying.

 

He hears Haru’s intake of breath, and then a soft affirmative. Sousuke closes his arms around Haru’s waist as more of a comforting gesture than anything else.

 

“Oh.”

 

Sousuke chews his lip. Nothing in life so far has prepared him for this situation. He keeps his arms around Haru. They’re still there–together.

 

“I’m not.” Sousuke tenses. “Sorry.”

 

Haru reaches up and pinches his arm. “Why are you apologizing?”

 

Why indeed? Sousuke swallows. “I guess I kind of wished you were my first.”

 

A laugh bubbles from Haru’s lips. “You’re a sap.”

“Shut up, Nanase,” Sousuke retorts.

 

They spend the rest of the evening curled up in front of the TV. There’s some nature program on the habits of whales that’s only mildly interesting. Sousuke divides his attention between that and kissing his boyfriend. It’s late when he stands up from the couch and drags himself away. But he has work in the morning. Haru stands with him and accompanies him to the door. When he bids Haru goodnight, it doesn’t feel like enough, so he hesitates with one hand on the door. For some reason, he’s still scared that if he walks through it, he won’t be able to come back.

 

Haru places his hands on both sides of Sousuke’s face. Sousuke leans into it, unsure of what exactly it is that Haru wants. There’s a small smile on Haru’s face, though, so that means he’s thinking of something. When Sousuke bends down far enough and Haru stands on tiptoes, he can just manage to press a kiss to Sousuke’s forehead. It’s different than a kiss on the lips. It’s somehow both more less intimate and more at the same time. He lingers for a moment and lets go.

  
Sousuke makes his exit after that. It’s a surprise, that he manages to walk back to his own apartment when his mind is still full with thoughts of Haru. But he does. It does, however, take him three hours to get to sleep. And when he wakes to the sound of his alarm ringing, calling him away from a nice dream, he nearly knocks it off the bedside table. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write dumb SouHaru, so here's what happened. As usual, it's like 3 in the morning, so forgive me for errors.


End file.
